


Hole in Two

by CreamCheese



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Child, Children, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, F/M, Family Dynamics, First work - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Sisters, Twin Inquisitors, Twins, Young Herald, Young Inquisitor (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:04:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9709727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreamCheese/pseuds/CreamCheese
Summary: The spiders’ shrill squealing pushed the young mess forward, one leg instinctively moving in front of the other, as she neared the god-like female figure reaching out to her, a last sign of hope. Grunting as she repositioned her greatest, but most beloved burden, she stretched for the glowing woman's hand- until she wasn't.Until she was lying on her back, seeing nothing but the taste of volcanic ash.... This isn't quite right.





	1. Chapter 1

She had to run.

     The body on her back, her other half, was unconscious, legs hooked around the sprinting one’s waist and hair and neck and back scorching from mages' fire. As limp and charred as she appeared, she was the halve who would have known what to do. The one who was currently working her scrawny legs ragged only had a single thought in mind, and that was to:

Run. Get to the golden lady at the top of the crooked hill.

     The elf’s short legs were trembling from the combined weight of her and her sister’s small frames as she fled from the spider-like abominations that were nipping at her hind ankles; she could feel the hot yet quickly cooling tears stream down her face as she lose hope of getting out of this god forsaken place even near alive.

     The spiders’ shrill squealing pushed the young mess forward, one leg instinctively moving in front of the other as she neared the god-like female figure reaching out to her, a last sign of hope. Grunting as she repositioned her greatest, but most beloved burden, she stretched for the glowing woman's hand- until she wasn't.

Until she was lying on her back, seeing nothing but the taste of volcanic ash.

 This wasn't quite right.

* * *

 

     Two prisoners. Two very young prisoners, both unconscious, one in critical condition, and the other with a glowing mark on her hand that could be what had killed all the people who attended the Conclave. Cassandra fisted and crushed the scattered papers on the petite desk she was looming over. These were the little bastards who killed Divine Justinia.

     “Cassandra, the marked prisoner has awaken,” Leliana’s knuckles rasped on the metal door of the caged office, face unreadable but intent obvious. It was time for the interrogation. “Alright,” the Seeker grunted, unsheathing her sword and exiting before opening the wooden door to the deeper parts of the dungeon. Room dark and murky from a leaky ceiling, a small, limp body sat in the center, chained, with an emerald-glowing hand and cool eyes of confusion. The kind that wanted answers.

* * *

 

     The fire wasn't the best thing to prevent her toes from frostbite, she quickly noted when the usual pink appendages seemed more comfortable inside a warm cabin, buried into soft great-bear furs instead of the blanket of snow her bare feet were currently in. “I don't remember you being there, Varric,” Elloen spat, arms wrapped around her knees as she sat next to the campfire, bottom planted into the snow and eyes lowered. “You don't know how I reacted to Cassandra. How do you know I wanted answers?” She mumbled , poking at a loose ember and sporting a knarly glare. Varric guffawed, patting the back of the elf’s head, much to her dismay.

     “I could only guess! Besides, I know things, and I know with how the way you took on that huge, montrosorus ass demon three days ago there is absolutely NO possibility that you could be afraid of little ol’ Cassandra, no matter how nasty her disgusted scowl is…” He carried on, kicking up snow and disturbing the innocent fire.

     “I was terrified…” She whispered, then glanced up (or more like across) to the dwarf only to start again, “And I barely did much to that, what, demon the other day or whatever. I just poked at its ankles a few times with little knives… basically.” Before Varric could retort with how she, Elloen, had destroyed the monster, with few potions, with the glowing green mark on her holy hand, she raised from the ground. As much as she wanted to voice the words, 'Don't say it...' Elloen had decided that a glassy look and small shake of the head would portray the words fine enough as she made a hasty escape. Varric didn't call out to her.

* * *

 

     Haven was small, and inside the walls were quiet. Elloen slouched next to her sister, Roen, arms and legs crossed in the small cottage the two used until her sister recovered, which would most likely be… weeks. Months. She had suffered severe burns on her neck, her nape bald and her hair singed; the only way she was allowed to rest on her lonesome bed was to lay on her stomach. A face of blank distance plastered itself on the conscious twin’s mug as she recalled what had happened in the past three days.

     She’d awoken and immediately been put to work. She had to kill a lot of things, and meet a lot of people she did not want to meet. Only one she enjoyed. The humans began to worship her. And a lot of different people started coming in and out to touch her delicate little hand, and her sister’s leathered back. Both she hated-

“Da’len?” Oh, it's this one.

“I’m not a child, shem-elf.”

     “And again, I am no city elf, da’len." She wasn't too young to know the man called her this ironically." And I doubt you've even reached your first milestones as an adult.”

     So cynical, she did not like this one. She hated this man. His amused face smoothed to cool as he opened the door to the small hut, stepping inside with one long stride, way too accustomed to entering the twins' domain. Ellown really hated this elf named Solas.

     “I'm only here to check on the child.” “You're no nurse-” “But her wounds are magical. Please, young Herald, let me care for your sister.” A moments pause. Elloen lowered her head and looked to the floor boards, stretching her toes and crossing her arms. “Fine… Just don’t--- touch her too much,” she glared at nothing, dragging her feet as she moved out of the way for the apostate who in turn kneeled by the older twin, grey eyes examining her mage inflicted burns. Elloen sat back down in an old, creaky chair, trying hard to not study her sisters wounds too closely, but keeping a weary eye on the three-day-old acquaintance.

“...”

“......”

“It's about time we headed out to The Hinterlands, da’len.”

“... I-- told you not to-” She sputtered at the sudden burst of unnerving words.

     “It will be at least a full moon cycle before your other half awakes, I'm afraid.” The older male was attempting to be gentle, spinning on his heels and facing the solemn Herald of Andraste. “I apologise.”

     Elloen glared, no apology was needed. “But what… if she wakes up while I'm gone? She's surrounded by--- by freakin-... SHEMS!!” A bit after the outburst, she moved to cover her mouth with her palms, salty, bitter tears prickling at her icy eyes seconds before turning away from the elder. Solas slowly stood but did not move, not wanting to intrude on the younger's justified emotions. She watched the opposite wooden wall with steely determination, making sure not one damn tear fell. “She’s…” her voice cracked, “surrounded by strangers.”

    _'She really is only a child,’_ Solas pondered, mildly heartbroken and shaken, his next moves coming to mind. “Commander Cullen and Leliana will stay here, of course. You do trust them, correct?” Elloen didn't say anything. Meaning, she didn't say no.

     “You have the mark,” he quoted from days before when the much, much younger elf inquired why the adults let her make the choices that would inevitably affect them all. “You… at the moment, you are the one responsible for our next movements. Choose wisely, young Herald.” A closed eye grin.

     They didn't share any more words. Solas moved to exit the door, and Elloen stared down at her feet, fists clenched. She looked at the deadly still Roen, and tried to avoid looking at the days to come without her at her side. As the “Herald of Andraste.”

“...She's... the one who would have known what to do..."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Responsibilities a the Herald can be harrowing.

“Da’len, whatever you do… Do. Not. Move.”

Her eyes were stinging, her tears straining, begging to fall from her wide eyes in thick dollops, fogging her vision. This… shouldn't be happening. The way Solas addressed her, usually calm voice shaky, uncertain, scared- it set Elloen on edge. 

She didn't move. 

 

If this was only a month ago, this waterfall, blue and pristine, would be a lovely site for Elloen’s sore, puffy eyes, but now, here and now, it was the real life embodiment of a true, grueling nightmare.

She felt a string of drool pool on the top of her head, and made a small squeak, gurgling in her throat. The Greater Terror was basically on top of her, their proximity so close, yet somehow she remained unspotted. Her small hand clinged to Druffy’s horn, squeezing as if it would convince the stubborn drufallo to finally stay still- surely the beast wouldn't be so stupid, being surrounded by Terror demons and a strange, wailing blue monstrosity that looked like a child, yet an old-frail woman at the same time. She never saw this type before and it made her blood freeze as the Terror demon above her groaned, moving ever so subtly, and Elloen, whose blue eyes had been desperately locked onto the demon above her, swore she saw a wolf approaching in the distance. 

How could they possibly have missed the rift?

 

‘Dear Roen, 

Today was the end of my first week in The bloody Hinderlands. As I've already told you, I don't have to look for iron anymore!’

Elloen paused, pursing her lips as she put her quill pen down. The young elf had been writing her sister a letter everyday for the past two weeks, starved of the attention and love her missing part would usually shower upon her. The Hinderlands had been boring, yet a very dangerous place at the same time, and she made a point to tell her sister every detail of every day, even if the other girl was currently unconscious. She thought of Roen every day, every second. In battle, in her sleep, as she ate, the reason she cried every night... Elloen wasn't going to explain her despair through her letters, though. She missed her sister, Roen, and knew she would have enough problems of her own once she wakes. Sighing, she persisted and gave her black locks a quick scratch humming a small, melancholy tune and forced herself to remember today's events…

'It all started with a missing, damned suicidal drufallo…’

 

“...But why?” In Elloen mind, she thought it was a well warranted question. She was the “Herald of Andraste!”, the humans liked to call her, so why, in Andruil’s world were they tasked with rescuing a stinky drufallo? The way Cassandra looked her way explained enough, but the woman decided to push the matter further with words. 

“Young child, I know this may be hard for your inexperienced mind to process,” Elloen glared, Cassandra responding with a smirk, “but as you already know… we have to build connections to get us into Val Royeaux. And if those connections form by finding missing animals, then so be it.” Poking the dirt with her toes and giving the older women a nasty scowl, Elloen gave her input. “I understand just fine,” she spat, still not accustomed to the teasing Cassandra began throwing her way since their mutual trust was formed, “but of all the things we need to do- or just could do instead, we focus on this mission? 

Cassandra stood tall, her face falling into a frown, brows furrowed. “Elloen…” she started, and the elf in question suddenly felt racked with guilt, not knowing why, “We could be faced with much worse missions. You know this.” And she did. She had to watch people starve, watch people burn and scorch in the blazes of mages’ fire, just like her sister had only weeks ago. “Surely you can't possibly be complaining that our next mission doesn't involve death?” Elloen didn't know if she preferred serious Cassandra over the teasing, but she knew either way, the woman was intense and filled with righteous purpose. She looked to the ground. No comment. 

“This is our last one, correct?” Elloen started after a moment of pause, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. It was cold here, in Haven. “This is indeed correct, Herald,” Josephine smiled, scribbling away at her papers and leaning on the table that separated them. “This is the last necessary mission we need before achieving access to Val Royeaux. You've made great progress, and the people of the Hinderlands truely appreciate you.” These words caused the young elf to blush.

Weeks ago, she cursed anyone on site, anyone who dared to cross her rather small path. She wished for none of this, being “The Herald of Andraste”. Not her new title, not the mark on her hand, not the way it seemed thousands of people relied on her for her help… she was simply a hunter, a scavenger for an old traditional Dalish clan, yet here she was, saving whole regions and people's lives-. It was scary, yet also… new, exciting. She felt purposeful. 

“You're embarrassing her, Josie,” Leliana chimed in, placing a soft hand on the small girl’s shoulder as Cullen joined the conversation with a simple chuckle. Leliana continued. “You will do great today, Elloen. We believe in you.” They all beamed at her, like proud parents, and the elf looked away, bashful.

Very few times did Elloen genuinely smile. 

 

The wolf got too close, and Druffy lurched.

“Ah-NO!” Elloen shreiked, hands flying to her ears as the Greater Terror Demon’s pitch was a-thousand times sharper than hers. “Move!” Cassandra called out, drawing her sword, “We must fight to survive!” They were not prepared. This bunch of demons were levels above them, they were not yet ready to close this rift, but if they were to make it out, it was highly possible that they would die trying. 

“All this for a damned drufallo-,” Elloen hissed, grinding her teeth as she unsheathed her blades, jumping backwards when Solas forced the Terror demon away from her with a strange spell. Her tears we're still hot on her face despite the chilly mist of the waterfall, made even cooler by the Despair demon, the fear etching itself into her memory for years to come. Biting words ignored, they had more pressing matters to worry about other than why they were here, order we're given. “We simply have to cross the river…” Solas reminded the band, “this is no time to play the hero. Also, remember our potions are limited.” The glare at Varric went unnoticed.

To get Druffy to move, they had to kill the harassing wolf. Varric went quick to work, his distance surely a great relief to him, and quickly ended the animals life with a sharp, precise draw of his bow. Druffy seemed to ignore the demons that surrounded them, for as soon as the wolf was dead, the damned druffalo made a bee-line across the river, leaving the human, elves and dwarf alike to dead with the disrupted rift. 

The Terror Demon was ruthless. It seemed every time Elloen tried to move, it swept under the nature's floor and appeared beneath her, throwing her to the slippery riverbed, bruising her hands and elbows as it tried clawing her face. Everytime, Cassandra was only a shield bash away, protecting her, allowing her a way out. Solas was right, they did not have to fight them head on. The Despair demon seemed to enjoy it's distance. It didn't pestering them as they tried to escape by trying to get close likes it's hellish comrades, instead it spent it's devilish time by hurling icicles their way, Solas sadly being the focused target for its ire. They were all ragged as the rift cracked and contorted, demons dissapearing from site as they made some distance. It felt as if their life had been on the last bar, potions quickly being used in the beginning of the escape. Elloen doubt she would ever be used to this type of thing.

 

The druffalo was a nightmare to navigate back to his home. They received their bounty, their influence, their power, and Elloen wondered if it was worth it as Solas quietly wrapped a bandage around her left elbow.

“...”

“......”

“I hope today didn't discourage you too much, da’len,” the elder elf gave her a small, strained smile, hoping to sound reassuring but failing, to Elloen's ears at least. It didn't discourage her. It made her want to piss her pants.

“No,” she quipped, pulling back when he was finished addressing her wounds and looking away, folding into herself, “No… it was just scary. Frightening, even,” she laughed hollowly. Solas only looked down at her, standing. 

“That it was.” 

Secretly, Elloen hoped that was the end of the conversation. Dennett had offered his daughters bed for her to nap in, and she was hoping to take that offer very soon, but the elf knew she couldn't if Solas continued to nap at her. Seeming to sense this, Solas’s smile returned, but wider. 

“Have I told you about the time I faced and defeated two Arcane Horrors- plus their minions in The Temple of Dirthamen?”

 

'And tomorrow, we start our expedition to Val Royeaux. Wish me luck! Well, in past tense at least…’

Elloen yawned, eyes straining in the night, the single candle on her desk proving to be useless. She glanced behind her, to the bed of her sister who finally started to snore after the month she first fell unconscious, as she used to do in her slumber. It filled the young elf with comfort, knowing her sister was getting better. She gave her shaky fingers a quick luck before putting out the candle, moonlight now filling their small cabin and reducing the strain on her eyes. Today had been utterly terrible, but she wasn't going to let Roen know or feel her pain. She had to be strong. In the dark, she finished her letter:

'I think the shems are happy with me, for some reason. It frustrates me and makes me happy at the same time. They're proud of me, and I know if you were here with me right now, you would be too. And I…

I miss you.

Your wishful sister, Elloen.’


	3. Chapter 3

    The visit to Val Royeaux had been quite fruitful, contrary to young Elloen’s belief. The politics between the city and the Templars completely flew over the elf's head, but just visiting the city had seemed to open so many options for the Herald and her party.

    Vivian, a rather eccentric mage that Elloen didn't quite mind to be around, was a nice addition to their little group. 'The Ice Queen’ was a rather fitting nickname for the woman, and the young elf couldn't help but to bare a shit-faced grin every time she heard the name.  Also, there was Blackwell. A Grey-Warden, whatever the fuck that meant, apparently highly respected in his line of work, found in the Hinterlands near a lake. Elloen was wary of the Shem in the beginning, but after seeing the man single-handedly slay three great bears-- she didn't regret recruiting him in the slightest. There was only one recruit that made her wish she was the sister in a coma.

 

* * *

 

    “So this is dat brat's sister, eh? She dead?” Sera’s shrieking voice traveled outside the log cabin, causing Elloen to grit her teeth as she pushed the door open, snow covered toes finally soothed once inside the fire-clad house. “I'm not a brat, and she's not dead,” the awake twin frowned, Solas shaking his head as he applied a cooling balm to Roen's neck wounds. Her sister’s condition has completely stabilized, to Elloen’s relief, and Solas theorized that she would be awake in a matter of weeks, if not days. She was anxious to finally be able to speak to her sister again, taking as few missions as possible and not wanting to be away when her other half finally returns from death. Hopefully the first thing the girl would see would be Elloen's familiar, stunningly-awesome face, and not the butt-headed mug of butt-head Sera.

    “Ah, so she's just passed out then. Huh,” Sera puckered her lips, sitting crossed-legged on the floor, a bit too close to her sister's bed. Elloen had no idea why the witch had taken an interest to her unconscious sister, and she sure as hell didn't like it. “Yeah, now get out?” The dalish elf smiled, motioning to the winter breezy door. Sera scowled, offering a ragged giggle in return. “Ya know ya love me, and I'm just curious! Tat's all…” she smiled back, spreading her legs out as if making herself at home. Elloen wanted to dive face-first into the burning fireplace. “She's shorter than you, and her 'air is lighter.”  

    It was true, the two weren't identical twins after all, but Elloen was curious how any of this information was relevant in the slightest. “Obviously…” she scoffed, crossing her arms before jumping- an urgent knock banged on her cabin door.

    “What is it?” She hissed, heart-pounding at the sudden intrusion, opening the door to only catch an eyeful of a flush-faced Haven scout. An elf. They saluted, a bit meek as they began their message. “Your present is needed in the Hinderlands, Herald! It was reported to be urgent!” They called, Solas standing from the other twins side at the words. Elloen nipped at the insides of her cheek. She really didn't want to leave her sister at such a crucial time.

    “Da’len…” the older elf started, but Elloen only turned sharply, glaring daggers at the man. “I know.” It doesn't matter what she wants anymore; she was cursed with the mark. The dalish girl nodded to the scout, turning back to her two crew members. “You two… can stay,” she declared, causing Solas to raise a brow. Sera didn't seem to be the least bit bothered. “... Are you sure, child?” Solas questioned, folding his arms in fake worry- or that's at least how the younger saw the concern. Elloen only gave a crooked grin- knowing he just didn't want to feel left out. “Yeah, I know this is the first time with me going without you, but I promise Solas, you weren't the key in keeping me alive.” And it was true! Well, at least Elloen hoped. She wanted to gain experience with working with her new party members, sans Sera of course, so she didn't think twice when it meant leaving Cassandra and Solas behind. “Besides, I need you to watch Roen. Hopefully when I come back she isn't covered in bee larva…” a sharp glare was sent Sera's way.

    The city elf cackled, slapping her knees as Solas only sighed, nodding to the Herald in defeat, probing himself to stop worrying. He just wanted the child to be safe, and he didn't know whether he trusted their new rather odd recruits. But after all, she did have the mark, as annoying as it was to always remember, so Elloen was allowed to do what she wanted. In some ways. She left the cabin, and Haven, in pursuit of the Hinderlands, while leaving the two elvehn companions behind.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, the sun was hidden behind snow and Sera would not. Stop. Talking.

    They weren't exact snowed in, but the city elf had found much more joy in bothering Solas and sitting in the heat rather than wandering aimlessly in the frozen-hell known as Haven. “It's cold as balls out there!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air dramatically as Solas flinched at her sudden outbreak. She had been silent for the last few minutes, yet Solas wondered why her brashness startled him.

    “Fenhedis, I should feed you to the wolves,” he groaned, furrowing his brows as he tried to focus on his arcane book. He'd been stuck on the last page for what seemed hours now, most likely not, the annoying elf surely his cause of distraction. Truthfully, he was a bit distraught, not used to sitting around and studying like he has always done, more fine-tuned to fighting in the front lines, protecting the young Herald. He wondered how Cassandra felt about being caged inside Haven, but not enough to leave the comfort of the warm cabin to question the human woman.

    “Oh, you'd like that now wouldn't cha?” Sera flipped the other elf off, flopping on her stomach as she pulled at the fur rug, seemingly bored. “And what’d I tell you about talking like that? That elvish crap,” she sighed, sneering at nothing in particular. “You sound like a dumb idiot.” Solas grit his teeth,setting his book down as he placed a hand over his forehead. This was giving him a migraine. “I sound like a dumb idiot?” Those dumbed-down words were foreign to his rather extensive vocabulary, “Then what would that make you? An imbecile? Eye-daggers were thrown from both parties, and Sera sat up, knees pulled to her chest.

    “Oh- come on! Say it! I'm a dumb idiot to you, aren't I?!” The girl shrieked, pout evident in her voice.  Solas had no time for baby-sitting, well- other than the Herald and her sister. “Alright, Sera, if you insist. You're a dumb idiot. Now would you please be quiet.” The younger’s face beamed red, hands squeezing into fists as she pulled at the rug beneath her. “Now you listen her-”

“You're both dumb-idiots…. Discussion over.”

“...”

“......”

    The words came from neither of them, the couch foreign and never heard before by the two of them. There was only one other person in the room.

“Thank you…”

    The two elves balked at each other, before glancing back to the bed. Sera huddled up on her knees, peering over the bed-stuck girl as Solas stood above them, hand placed on his chin in curiosity. “... Roen,” he remembered her name in the last moment, never talking to the elf before because, well- she wasn't awake. “Have you… awoken?” The hazel-haired girl still had her eyes closed, breathing seemingly stable and  complection rather clear. As healthy as she could get, without her wounds being under consideration. Sera only stared in minor awe, well wasn't this some good shit?

    “...” But the young elf didn't reply, and Solas sagged a bit, sighing as he sat back down. “I suppose she went back under.”

    Sera shook her head. “Ya delusional?! She's awake!” She stood tall, towering over the girl and oooh-so-tempted to grab the sleeping elf by the shoulders and shake her silly. “Hey girl! Wake up now, weeks is a bit long to be considered beauty sleep, ya know?” Despite how obnoxious Solas though Sera to be, he was also looking forward for the girl to finally be awake. He had made sure she was kept in the best condition possible for over a month now, going on two, and she was. Meaning, her waking now wouldn't put her in any danger or pain.

    “Roen…” he began again, only for the girl to geoan softly, eyebrows knitting in either discomfort, or annoyance. “Was… am I sleep?” The girl questioned, eyes still closed and words sluggish. Solas didn't respond, letting Sera take over with her eager talking and very unrelated stories. The twin was still unconscious. Still asleep, yet now talking, seemingly half-asleep-half-awake. The thought reminded the elf of the fade, and he smiled softly, leaning back onto the table and grabbing his book once again. It could possibly still take the girl days to regain full consciousness, and he wasn't going to spend that time making a fool of himself like Sera here.

    “I bet Elloen still wets the bed?” Sera cackled, still trying to communicate with the girl, hands resting on her thighs as she smiled over the bed. A small laugh came from the no longer truly comatose elf.

“... Maybe,” the answer was followed by a groan, Roen’s face scrunched in discomfort. Sera nearly spat, choking on a guffaw as Solas shook his head, walking to the bed and placing a hand on the girl’s forehead. Luckily she didn't have a fever. “Enough Sera. She needs her rest.” Solas wasn't expecting the sudden scowl from the city elf, arms crossed and suddenly standing. “For fucks sake old guy, she's been sleep for forever! And who knows what she'll be like when she actually wakes up… she could be a stuck-up brat like 'er sister!” A mischievous grin spread across Sera’s unpleasant mug, ears pointed like a little devil, “We could get some juicy information, yeah? While her lips are loose?” Solas only stared at her. He was curious, per se, but he had no idea what this information could even be, or how relevant it was to their cause. Yet still, Sera began her little interrogation.

   “How old are you guys anyways?” Sera didn't know, and the others hadn't said whether they did or what. “Fucking two? That's how Elloen acts-” She was caught off guard by Roen's soft laugh. She really did seem different than her borish, cold sis. “We’re… fourteen.” Roen sighed, attempting to roll over but not finding the strength to do so.

Where was she? Who were these people?

    “Oh, I kinda guessed you all were younger ya know? You're both so small…” Sera puckered her lips. She wasn't actually enjoying this. Roen looked like she was in pain. “I thought you said she was okay?” She turned to Solas, who merely nodded- he knew she was fine, for the most part. Roen was only confused, but not in the mental state to understand even if they chose to explain. “If you're gonna make a sour face every time I ask you a question then I'm not gonna,” the city elf declared, earning an eye-roll from Solas.

“... Good.”

“...”

    Solas threw his head back in laughter, clutching at his sides as Sera sulked next to the fire place, slightly relieved when he heard the soft breathing of the little elvhen girl falling back to sleep. Wiping a tear from his eye, he sat back down into his favorite old rickety chair, a bit mentally exhausted from the days events. Sera was highly annoying. Elloen would be either excited, or angry that her sister had regained a bit of consciousness without her being present, but in the end, it doesn't matter. The girl was going to be fine, both of them to be exact.

    “Well, now it seems she's actually sleeping again. Will you keep down now, Sera?” The girl didn't respond, poking at the fire with her bare fingers. Solas didn't pay her any attention, taking her silence as a yes, praise Fen’Harel, and continuing with his novel.

    With the girl finally stable and on the brink of  awakening, Solas has finished half of his job. Next on his agenda, he just needed to worry about the safety of the one with the mark. 


End file.
